


Held on a Knife Edge

by AnOddSock



Series: Learning the Ropes [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dom Dean Winchester, Dom Sam Winchester, E-stim, Edging, Face-Fucking, Gags, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Knifeplay, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Ownership, Sounding, Sub Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 01:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17878811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnOddSock/pseuds/AnOddSock
Summary: The Winchester's seem to know just what they want to do to Cas, and he has finally let them take charge without question (or at least without expecting answers).If he has complaints after being strapped down and gagged, well, they fall on deaf ears anyway.





	Held on a Knife Edge

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who haven't read part one, or who don't remember, this is written at the point where Dean has the Mark of Cain so I wrote him a little bit more possessive and callous than I usually would. And also, Sam is a bit of a voyeur.  
> And though they care deeply about Cas, they're both a bit too fascinated by his responses to fully mind if he doesn't like something. So, mind the dub-con and not Safe, Sane, or Consensual tags - because it falls somewhere in that realm!
> 
> As a heads up, I've never used e-stim myself, and reviews and user testimonies of how it feels only go so far I imagine, but I did my best ;)

“Hey, baby, ready for this?” Dean asked gently. The soothing sound of his voice the complete antithesis his biting grip on Cas’s arm.

Cas nodded. He was. He was as ready as he’d ever be. He needed this, whatever they chose to do to him, making him get lost in his own body, making him forget everything else. Making him _theirs_.

“What are you going to do?”

They almost never told him in advance, and he didn’t mind, but it didn’t harm to ask. They never hurt him beyond what he could bear, and never in a way that didn’t also feel inexplicably good.

“You’ll find out soon enough, but you’re going to come so hard you’ll see stars.”

His knees buckled, but he steadied himself, leaning into Dean’s hold.

His room had been somewhat transformed over the past few months. There was still a bed, but it was pushed to the side now and there were other things taking up the floor space. The largest and the newest of which was the padded metal bench. It was Dean’s own design, painstakingly and lovingly made to Cas's measurements; a lightweight frame with cushioning along the top but with gaps leaving access to his stomach and chest. Pads for his knees and a semi circle cushion for his neck to rest against.

It was perfect. And impossible for him to get off once they put him on it.

He trembled as Dean pulled him towards it, trying to delay, his instinct to fight being strapped down bubbling up. That was okay, they would make him anyway.

Dean grabbed him by the back of his neck, hauling him over and Sam yanked on his arms with firm hands around each wrist until they could get him into place. They strapped down the restraints across his hips and waist first so he couldn’t get up. He went a little limp then, knowing fighting was pointless.

“Not even going to pretend you don’t want this are you?” Dean said, smacking his ass hard and making him jolt.

“He just likes giving in too much don’t you?” Sam cupped his face and kissed the top of his head. “Can’t deny we know what’s best.”

Cas sighed. He was about to protest, although he didn’t disagree completely, when he found a large amount of plastic suddenly in front of his face. He grunted as Sam pushed it between his lips, bucking hard as it pulled tightly across his cheeks, forced back into his mouth. Round and rubbery, cloying. Sam buckled it carefully and checked how it was situated, methodically and detachedly lifting and rolling his head to get a good look.

He made a muffled protest, trying to claw up at the gag and Sam batted his hand away, tutting.

He felt Dean cuff his ankles, soft buckling manacles encircling and cinching tight. Straps pulled snug against his thighs, so only his hands were left free.

But not for long.

Sam made short work of locking one into place, but when it came to his left hand the cuff was put on but not locked down. He tried to lift it away from Sam’s nimble fingers in case he changed his mind, but Sam caught it up quickly and positioned it where it was meant to be.

“Just leave it there, we’ve got plans.”

Cas mumbled a question, trying to ask what was going to happen, but blushed red at how unintelligible it was behind the gag.

Dean rubbed his stubble jaw against the soft skin of Cas’s ass, and laughed when he huffed and strained to get away.

“Don’t go trying to think too hard, it’ll all become clear,” Dean said.

Cas let himself fall away as they did whatever they were going to do. It didn’t matter what he thought about any of it, they had their plans, they wouldn't listen now.

“Hey,” Sam said, crouching down to his eye level, “I’m going to help you relax okay?”

Cas blinked, breath hitching. He nodded. Drool was already pooling around the gag, and he sucked on it with a slurp. He didn’t want to dribble. He knew it was inevitable, but still, not yet. Humiliation could wait.

Sam laughed and smacked playfully at his face, hand cupping his cheek — more a light tap of endearment than anything painful. Cas tried to lean into the touch but Sam was gone.

Hands, Dean’s he presumed, were fiddling around between his legs and he twitched his muscles involuntarily. They caressed his cock, and balls, and the inside of his legs, and he realised there was a light coolness left behind the trailing touch. Was Dean cleaning him?

“Hhuuh?” _What?_ He shied away from his inability to form words, trying to duck his head. Sam carded fingers through his hair and tugged reassuringly.

“Just getting you nice and ready,” Dean explained.

Sams hands found their way to his back, rubbing and rolling the knots out of his tense shoulders, spreading heat and warmth. He moaned a little and Sam pressed harder.

“Want a blindfold?” Sam asked.

Did he? He couldn’t see much anyway, just the floor, his hands if he looked that down. He didn’t like the idea of not being able to speak or see, so he shook his head.

“Might give you one later anyway,” Dean chimed in, “just to give you the full effect.”

Cas panicked, straining, tugging at all the places they had fastened him down.

“Dude, I was _just_ helping him relax, don’t mess with him,” Sam said.

Cas hummed, wanting to say his part, and groaned when Sam snickered at his attempt to speak.

Sam kept up his massaging and Dean began affixing something — some _things_ — to his inner thighs. Little cool points of sticky substance which he smoothed down until a tight square of covered skin was left behind.

Cas tried to twist round to see what they were doing, muffled pleas gracing his lips.

“You’ll like it don’t worry,” Sam said.

“Not sure he’ll like it by the time we’re done,” Dean replied.

“Maybe not, he’ll like the result though, won’t you?”

“He always does.”

Cas huffed, fidgeting, and Sam cupped his face and leaned down so Cas could see him.

“Just a few more.” he kissed Cas’s wide-spread lips and disappeared again.

Dean fiddled around with his balls, sticking a tiny square to each, and one on his taint. Cas felt all kinds of wrong being displayed, fondled, unable to stop it. But excitement grew in his veins too.

“Final piece,” Dean informed him and something cool, hard, and lubed, pressed to the slit of his cock.

Careful hands pressed it insistently _in_ , forcing its way into him. Burning, eased by the lubricant, a little raw and a little like being fucked only in completely the wrong place.

“Aaa, aahhh!” Cas protested, trying futilely to arch away, trying to say stop too but it only came out distorted and garbled. He begged and Sam placed a firm, steadying hand on the back of his neck, rubbing in tiny circles.

The sound filled him almost all the way and Cas groaned with the pleasure and tugging metallic weight of it.

“There, nearly done.”

There was a small jolt to the base of the sound where it entered him and Cas whined. He jerked in all his bindings, his unrestrained hand pulling to reach the gag, to be able to ask and know and understand.

Sam appeared before him twirling something shiny around in his hands. Shiny and pointy.

Shiny and pointy and sharp.

His angel blade.

“Yeah, it’s yours,” he said, a wildfire glint lighting his eyes. He levelled the point of the blade at him, wagging it while Cas followed the motion with his eyes. He couldn’t look away, didn’t dare break his concentration in case it travelled closer and he missed it.

“Wanna feel it?”

He didn’t respond, eyes wide, breath catching. Sam stepped closer and trailed the point delicately over his cheeks, not breaking the skin or hurting just the biting touch of unrelenting metal dragging across his tender skin. He trailed it around Cas’s lips, gently, and then pulled it slowly across the skin beneath his eye. Cas snorted air out through his nose feeling indignant and worry in equal measure but Sam raised it up and played with his hair, brushing it aside. It tickled, and unnerved, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

Leaning in to whisper, Sam said, “You always looked so magnificent with it, and this isn’t a sight we’ll forget easily either.”

“Stop taunting him, I wanna get on with this.”

“Take a last look, you won’t see it the same after this.”

Cas grunted, he didn’t know what they meant. He didn’t know what they were going to do.

“You always look delicious with something spreading you open,” Dean said low and soft, “and I don’t think this will be any different. Might feel a bit different for you though.”

“We’re wrapping it up don’t worry, got the condoms out and everything.”

“Wouldn’t want any pointy edges to snag and cut you where it’ll hurt.”

“Safe sex is best,” Sam joked.

Cas was trying to but the pieces together, made infinitely harder — in every sense — by lube being squeezed into his ass and two fingers massaging him open.

Safe? Wrapped up? What wrapped up? What safety?

The blade, the teasing, the place they were preparing him….

No.

Surely, no.

He moaned, thrashing, as he became sure he was right.

He yelled no, _no no no_ , behind his gag. Shaking his head violently.

“Now he’s got it!” Dean exclaimed.

“Oh yes, it’s going in there.”

“Handle first obviously, we don’t want you cut open.”

Handle or no handle he couldn't; it was a blade, a weapon, a knife so sharp and lethal he didn't want it anywhere near, not his skin not his hole, not _in_ him.

He thrashed more even though he could barely move, pleading and begging and half sobbing, the idea was so all consuming he could barely feel when Sam cradled his face, murmuring softly in his ear.

“Shh, shh, Cas, it won’t harm you, might hurt a bit but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. We’ve got you, we’re going to do this and you can take it, _stop_. Shh.”

Dean took a moment to let him look wide eyed at Sam and then circled a hand around his balls, and he froze. Dean squeezed, just a fraction, letting him feel the way it squashed and hurt, and he whined.

“All good, back with us?”

And yes he was, he was grounded, here, sure of what was going on.

“We’re not stopping Cas, you just sit tight,” Dean said, needling his knuckles into Cas’s thigh.

“Eea, yyea-eee,” Cas begged, uncaring how it sounded, gagged and quiet.

“Think that’s him begging for us to continue?” Dean asked the room.

“Might as well be. He’s going to love it really. Hear that Cas, you’re going to be fine.”

Cas hung his head and shuddered.

When a firm shape nudged at his hole he jolted, but he didn’t have anywhere to go.

It was lube slick and condom rubbery, but the shape was all wrong. Cas clenched but Dean didn’t seem to mind, he just kept pushing forward and easing back, letting Cas’s hole remember how to give, how to relax like it had for his fingers.

Cas was seeing bright spots of colour, biting hard at his silicone ball, every muscle strained as he was slowly and methodically worked open until the toy —

_Not a toy not a toy, his blade, his weapon!_

Until it popped past his rim, the first swell of the handle sucked inside him heavy and cold even through the condom wrapped around it.

He sagged, going limp and jelly-like. The burn stretching him open so familiar, the pleased noises from his companions sounding just as they always did. His body relaxed, letting the inevitable happen only his whimpers showing different he knew this was.

The rest was smooth and long, gliding in in a couple of quick thrusts.

“-aahhh.” Cas asked for Sam, asked over and over and Sam rubbed his tense back, placed a firm hand over the back of his head, right over the buckle of his gag.

“Holding on okay?”

Cas shook his head. There were tears filling his eyes, he was filled to the brim with distress and humiliation. But they liked that, he could feel how much they liked that when Sam stepped closer and his hard cock nudged Cas’s arm.

“Want to stop?”

Cas breathed. Did he? Would he?

“I don’t want you to,” Sam whispered conspiratorially. “I want to see you fall apart.”

Cas grunted as Dean twisted _something_ and the blade handle rotated inside him.

“Swallowed it all the way to the hilt honey, got it all the way inside you, like you were just desperate for it.”

Cas didn’t want to move, or breathe, but his lungs kept expanding and his muscles kept clenching and relaxing feeling all the long weight of it buried in his ass.

“I’ve got this—” there was a jolt, a tug, “wrapped around it, so the blade can’t enter you or touch you. Just a nice bit of reinforced metallic tape around the rope, it’ll fray eventually but not while we do this.”

“Anything we can do to make sure it won’t get pushed out?” Sam asked.

Cas moaned. He _wanted_ it out dammit. He wanted it gone.

“On top of it, this end of the rope is going round his neck.”

Cas turned his head, watching as Dean moved alongside him, feeling a rope trail up the crack of his ass, along his back, and helpless to do anything when Dean wrapped a noose over his head.

It wasn’t tight, and it didn’t chafe, just sitting around his throat while he laid belly down on display.

He squirmed, fighting against all the things binding him, and all the things in him. Nothing else happened except Sam and Dean standing back and whispering together. They circled him, checking the restraints, and digging fingernails into his skin leaving crescent shaped indents behind.

Marking him.

Holding him.

Owning him.

He shifted his hips and the hilt of his blade shifted along with him and he hung his head in shame.

“How’s it feel?” Dean asked.

“Does it feel as good as it looks?”

“He doesn’t even know what he looks like,” Dean countered.

“Maybe we should tell him.”

Cas could imagine, strapped down, legs spread, something in his cock and his ass and his mouth. His skin laid bare. Delicate soles of his feet within reach, hands useless, eyes brimming with tears showing everything he felt.

The sharp thrust of a blade protruding from his ass like a shiny silver tail, long and wrong and filthy.

“You’re stuffed full aren’t you? Got something in all your pretty holes, something to stopper you up in every way so you can’t get into trouble,” Sam said, stepping close and putting his thumbs over Cas’s eyes, making him close them.

“We could keep you like this all the time you know, you’d never need to move we’d take care of everything. Everything we need of you right here, just to use and admire.”

“Nnn-gaa!” _No, can’t._

“We won’t, it wouldn’t be as fun otherwise. But you will be here for a while, you ready for that?” Sam asked.

He breathed shallowly, nostrils flaring, lips sticky with spit and whined softly. They’d do it, they’d leave him if they wanted, and he’d stay if they needed him to.

“We’ll start real slow, so you can get a feel for it.” Dean turned away. “Are we blindfolding him or what?”

Cas shook his head, violently, vehemently no.

“I think that’s a no.”

“Do we want him to call the shots?”

Panic overwhelmed him, but Dean just laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “Alright angel, seeing your eyes fill up with tears is better anyway.”

“These pads, you can feel those?” Sam asked.

Cas nodded and tried to twist his head to see. Useless, he couldn’t move far enough.

“They’re connected to that little box Dean has—” Dean held it in his eyeline, “and they’re going to deliver a little current directly into you.”

Currant? A dried grape? He couldn’t, he didn’t —

There were switches and dials on the control in Dean’s hand and it clicked.

_Electricity._

“It’s called e-stim,” Dean said, watching Cas’s reaction carefully. “It’s safe, and it’s going to feel like fireworks under your skin.”

A button was flicked, and he felt the beginnings of something igniting under his skin where the sensors were laid. Fireworks seemed like overstating things. It was a trickle, a tiny dance of neurons that buzzed a little and then disappeared.

“Ahh? Uuhh?” he questioned, wriggling in his bonds, was that it?

“It will get more intense, it’ll feel more amazing once we get to a higher setting,” Sam said.

“Not that we want to rush that.” Dean leaned down and ran his fingers through Cas’s hair. “So, how’s it feel, that blade inside you? Does it feel dirty?”

Cas thought about it, he couldn’t _not_ think about it, it was a heavy obstructive weight inside him that demanded half his attention just because it felt so strange.

He nodded and Dean broke into a grin. “And the sound, that’s new, do you like it?”

That one was harder, if he stayed still it was less noticeable, and it was difficult to be anything _but_ still the way they’d tied him down. Even so, he felt stretched and thin, such sensitive skin expanding to accommodate a foreign object. But it also felt like a piece of him had been taken away, blocked up until they decided he should be unblocked, and something about that felt unimaginably good. So he nodded again.

“And we know how he likes the gags,” Sam chimed in.

Cas whined. He did not like the gags, but he did respond to them in a very intense way.

“Well, buddy, you’re almost ready to go so let me tell you how this is going to work. The sound, that’s going to make it hard to come, not impossible and I’m sure you’ll be dripping around it in no time, you always do make a mess. But to get release, proper release, you’re going to want to take it out.”

Sam picked up his free left hand and threaded a length of rope through the cuffs rings. Cas turned his head to watch as Sam attached it with enough give that he could reach back and touch his cock.

“So you can,” Sam said, “you can take the sound out and get release whenever you want.”

Cas moved instinctually and fingered the bulbous end of the sound, the little clipped-on electrode with its cable.

“Feel free to orgasm away, as soon as you want,” Dean said, crouching to look at him.

Cas frowned. What was the catch?

“But you feel that weight inside you?”

Cas swallowed, a tiny pit of dread opening in his stomach.

“If you come, you’ll have done all of it with your own weapon stuffed up your ass. Spread open like a regular helpless, horny human with a cock hungry hole. Getting turned on by your own defilement.”

“You look amazing,” Sam interjected, “you look so used, so… dirty. And you can come like that, if you want.”

Cas moaned. His predicament becoming clear. But it couldn’t be that difficult to stay the way he was, to choose not to come, could it?

“Or you can just have this ramped all the way up and suffer through it. Dealers choice.” Dean kissed his forehead and stroked a thumb over Cas’s spread lips.

“Whatever you want, whatever you decide, we’ll know. Gonna watch you the whole time.” Sam set down his laptop, the camera and screen facing Cas with a clear line to his face and under the bench to his stoppered up cock. He whined.

“Have a nice few hours,” Dean said, rubbing his shoulder one last time.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t so difficult at first. The stimulation was warm, tingling, a little wild around the edges but nothing impossible to withstand.

It came and went in waves, building up and cresting, before slowly turning back down.

It did set him alight, his nerves rattled and relaid the sensation and it did make his breath catch. But he’d calm down in the interim. Stuck in place and uncomfortable, sweaty, awkwardly clenching around the intrusion forced into his hole, but he’d settle down.

And then the interims got shorter, and his dick picked up the message and filled out, awkwardly held stiff with the sound blocking it up.

And the levels increased.

And the sensation changed from mild to intense.

And he was gone.

Everything was alive. His entire lower half was fucking _singing_. It was ecstatic and mind blowing, he jerked and writhed and couldn’t stop. His body wanted him to move, his body wanted _release._

And every jolt, every time he clenched, his ass got tighter and wobbled the weapon nestled inside it. The heavy weight of it pulled it down against his prostate and when that coincided with the higher levels from the e-stim device he thought he might black out.

His vision wavered and his breath caught and when he came back down a little the sound was distinctly sticky at the base. His balls kept trying to draw up desperately and expel, only there was nowhere for it to go.

He moaned. Drooling, rolling his head, pulling at the straps holding him down. He tried to communicate with them through the laptop, he assumed they could hear every embarrassing noise he made as well as see every twitch of his body. He tried to ask them to come back, tried to ask not to be alone.

No one came. He was held fast and fucked up, and the room was empty.

It didn’t stop.

They didn’t come.

He only got more desperate.

 

* * *

 

Almost three hours had passed since they had left him and he’d whined and writhed for most of the last two, hanging on to his surety that he could outlast this. But he was slipping now, sliding down into a numb blank state where feeling eclipsed everything else.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t reason. The buzz on his groin, balls, running up inside his cock, and through his thighs was all he could focus on. Even the pressure points of his chest on the bench, of his caught wrists, meant nothing.

There was only sensation, and less sensation, and more again.

His ass was slick with lube, they must have really filled it, and it was the good stuff — not drying out. But it was still raw, puffy, and used.

He was whining continually now. He couldn’t help it, the flashes of pleasure — almost constant — drew noises up and out of his mouth without his say so. He was practically _keening._

He was limp, limbs floppy with exhaustion but the next wave of stimulation made him jerk just the same.

He pawed at the sound, testing the weight, feeling how easy it would be to pull it out and get the real relief he craved. His balls were heavy, full and large and unhappy.

He whimpered, and removed his hand.

He didn’t want to come like this. Held down, a sharp blade — _his heavenly weapon_ — pointing out of his ass, buried deep inside him. He didn’t want to know what that would feel like.

He waited.

He touched the sound again.

It would be so easy.

It would be over.

The electricity blew threw him again and he screamed.

He screamed every time it increased now.

It increased through the levels more rapidly than it had at the beginning.

It held at the higher setting longer and longer.

It never dropped as low as it had started.

He touched his cock, the head was the only bit he could reach, he ran his fingers over it. All his muscles contracted at the extra sensation and he fumbled for the sound.

He was lit up again by the tortuous feeling. His nerves alight. His hand dropped.

Round and round until he was sure it had gone on forever.

When he finally gave in it wasn’t a decision. It was pure instinct, a reaction he didn’t plan. The pleasure became to much and he was sliding the sound out with a yell, and his come followed quickly behind. He spurted so forcefully he felt it up his stomach, some even reaching the underside of his chin.

He couldn’t scream. His eyes rolled back and he rode out the wave.

The e-stim stopped assaulting him and he breathed ragged. His blade jerked in his contracting hole as the last of his orgasm rumbled to a stop.

He’d done it, he’d come untouched by another human. He’d broken down and given in under the onslaught and he’d debased himself on his own sacred sword while he did it.

He cried, little hiccuping sounds and rolled his aching jaw.

The sensations dropped away, bit by bit and he let feeling overtake him. He called out for his friends, his lovers, and still they didn’t appear.

He realised why in moments, the device was picking up heat again — growing in power again. He shook his head frantically, whining, straining, trying to claw his way loose.

He couldn’t.

The machine ramped up and he wept. So soon, so much, it was like splices of white hot heat through his balls, around his taint. Without the sound in his cock it was less all consuming but it wasn’t stopping.

He voice cracked eventually, so much croaking and screaming.

He came twice more before it was over, and the last time was dry and pathetic, a feeble twitch of his cock and a tiny amount of weak fluid that dribbled out to join the rest.

 

* * *

 

 When they returned to set him free he was barely lucid, he had watched the clock on the laptop ticking by his torment with bafflement as more and more time elapsed and he'd disappeared into himself.

The shocks had stopped a while ago, and he’d floated, drifting through memories of sensation. Echoes of pleasure.

They talked around him, cooing, petting his sides like he was some kind of animal. He guessed, in a way, he was.

They moved and he stayed put, he blinked and missed the moment his ball gag was taken away. But he sighed happily, uncaring about his spit slick chin or being seen in such a state. There was some fiddling around his groin but he barely cared. They’d do whatever they were going to do.

“Hey you with us?” Sam whispered.

He murmured something back and got a kiss for his trouble.

“Look how much you came, look how much you loved it,” Dean told him. He couldn’t disagree, his body had betrayed him.

They cleaned him, and the underside of the bench. He wanted to ask to be let down but decided it didn’t matter. He could stay there, if they wanted to leave him. His neck ached fiercely, and he kept letting his head droop.

His eyes closed.

His hips rolled a little and the hot, angry weight of his angel blade made him whimper.

“Look at that, still so slutty. Your hole still full angel, full for us.”

He thought that was Dean’s voice. But he thought he could smell Sam.

“You want to do one more thing for us?” Sam asked, cupping his face. “You want to take us both while you lay out all broken apart and empty of come and full up with the shame of this?”

“Can’t,” he said. Mumbled.

“Why not?”

“Too much, please.” he opened bleary eyes and Sam chuckled softly.

“Not your ass Cas, want you to blow me. Swallow everything we give you. Let us fill you back up with come, now we’ve taken all of yours.”

He blinked, but his aching jaw slipped open at Sam’s gentle insistence.

Sam slid in, pants unzipped and knees bent, and groaned gloriously. Cas tasted him and his head cleared a fraction.

So full, full at both ends.

Sam’s cock hit the back of his throat and he swallowed, relaxing.

“So good, so amazing. Take it, you can, you’re so good at this.”

Sam fucked him lazily, letting him suckle and get used to his girth. Enjoying the heat of Cas’s mouth in long languid thrusts.

Something pressed the hilt of the blade down inside him and he whined, sore and sensitive.

Sam picked up the pace, fucking harder, groaning more.

“Feel so good, fuck, so great, just like this. Always want you, always need it.”

Cas woke up slowly, coming back to himself as Sam urged his cock in and in, until he emptied over Cas’s tongue.

“Sam,” he moaned, as Sam pulled out and come dripped from his down turned mouth.

“Hey, me too, hold on a little longer.”

“Please.”

He didn’t know what he was asking for. More, maybe. Less? Probably. Dean, definitely.

Dean used his mouth like he was chasing release on a deadline. Quick and jerking.

Cas's brain came back online as he swallowed his second load of come. The tears started up again swift and strong, spilling out and soaking his face, rolling into his panting mouth.

What they'd done to him, what he'd experienced, what he'd allowed to happen all mixed up into a heady rush of emotion. The way he was still spread wide and still had his ass full of metal. He cried it all out and they let him.

 

* * *

 

Later, cleaned up and in bed with his back pressed to Dean's chest and still with his cuffs padlocked in place, he began to wonder. What was it all for? What was it to teach him?

“Why?” he asked and Dean laughed. He was hurt, wasn't there a reason?

“You looked amazing, you learned about your limits, isn't that enough?”

Sam was sitting at the desk with his laptop open. He threw Cas a smile. “Not everything in life is a teachable moment, some things just _are._ ”

“So there was no point?” he felt tears prick his eyes again.

“The point was getting you off, and you sucking us off, and breaking you down while it happened.”

Dean's hand closed possessively around his throat and Cas stilled.

“Life will fuck you over and it won't always be good, take what you can while you can get it and survive the rest. Is that enough of a lesson?”

The hand squeezed and he gasped, clawing up at it. He paused, seeing the cuffs. Locked. He didn't even know where the key was.

“I'm yours, aren't I?” he said quietly.

Dean tilted his chin up, frowning as he looked into Cas's eyes. “Who else's would you be?”

Cas smiled then. Maybe it didn't matter that his angel blade had been used in such a base and filthy way. Maybe it wasn't his most important thing, maybe it wasn't the link to his identity that he thought.

Maybe his most important things were the living breathing beings who owned him, who knew him, who broke him down and cracked his shell. Who gathered him up and made him keep going.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, shoot me a comment if you liked it, I always love getting reactions!
> 
> I think my favourite part of writing this is the different ways in which they Dom Cas, such a stark contrast. Dean is all harsh and commanding and removed, and Sam is all gentle touches and encouragement and sneaky cajoling. Just. Ugh. What fun dynamics to smush together.


End file.
